


Infected

by uninterruption



Category: Original Work
Genre: Corruption, Disease, F/M, Future, Infected, Politics
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-18
Updated: 2013-03-05
Packaged: 2017-11-29 17:11:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/689427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uninterruption/pseuds/uninterruption
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A new disease is spreading throughout the United States.  As time passes, it is quickly discovered that this isn't just a seasonal germ - this virus is here for the long run, and it has plans to destroy the entire human race.  As scientists rush to discover a cure, two teenagers band together to discover the cause of this disease.  Will they be able to uncover the mystery behind the virus... before they too get infected?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prelude - Overheard

Trembling fingers held a pen to the paper. The man's vision slowly blurred as his eyelids drooped. He pushed his wire-rimmed glasses back on his nose for the umpteenth time that evening, and he dared glance at the digital clock on his cluttered desk. 11:41. He stifled a yawn and cracked his neck before looking back at his paper. Another minute passed, and the man did what he could to focus. He knew he wasn't to leave before he finished the rough draft of the paper. The others were to look over it tomorrow morning, and if he were the holdup in the smooth-running system, he'd be out of a job.

Brow furrowed, the man reread his previous words. Once or twice, he scratched out one idea and replaced it with another. When he reached the end, he added the last few sentences, read the paper through twice more, and finally felt satisfied. He set the pen down and rubbed his hands together. His knuckles ached from remaining stiff for such an extended period of time. It didn't matter how many hours he put in, how many times his muscles returned to that same position; his hand still resisted any movement for minutes afterward.

Stacking the papers in their correct order and fastening them in the upper left hand corner with a single, well-placed staple, the man ran his fingers through his hair, readjusted his glasses again, and pushed himself out of his chair. His knees protested, and he almost considered sitting back down again and spending the remainder of the night at his desk, but he had his family at home and a cold dinner waiting. The overworked man kept his hand on his desk for as long as possible before leaving his position and heading for the door.

The corridors were empty. Throughout the day, men and women in shined shoes and loud heels paced these floors, hurrying from one office to another. He himself could almost point out his footprints on the floor from where - multiple times - he had run from the break room back to his desk to the conference room and back again to his desk. The days, often times, were monotonous, lengthy, and, more and more so, late.

His feet tread the familiar path to his boss's office. With the big day growing closer and closer, the office could have very well been more of a room than an office. Secretaries contemplated the presence of a sleeping bag under boss's desk. The boss himself was rarely seen without a cup of coffee. Everyone in the office seemed overly caffeinated these days.

As he drew closer to the office, he paused; there was a voice inside. His boss's voice, no doubt. However, the one known voice was accompanied by another. The owner of the second voice was unknown.

"Yes, yes, don't forget that. It's very important."

His boss's voice drifted from behind the wooden door. The odd, static sound of the communicator buzzed as the second voice responded.

"Of course, of course. And what of the mutation gene? Don't you want that as well?"

A sigh came from the boss's end. "That's the entire point of it. And you have the antibiotics as well, right?"

The second voice grumbled slightly, either out of discomfort or confusion. "Y-yes," it mumbled, "but you know it will be very difficult to --"

"I don't care how difficult it is, I want you to do it."

"But you know that, with the added mutation gene, that an antibiotic for the virus would be very hard to --"

"Didn't you hear me?" The boss's voice got dangerously soft. "I want you to make it happen. You can do that for me, right? That's why I came to you." His voice got louder once more. "I could ruin you. I could say one little word, one oh-so-small word, and your entire company - your entire world - would come crashing down."

There was a sound almost like a whine on the other end. "Yessir. I understand, sir."

"Good."

The man outside the door, cautious as ever around his boss, felt this was as good a time as any to make his presence known. He knocked on the door and peeked inside. "Excuse me, sir, but I --"

The boss swiveled around in his chair. He had an odd look about him, one that showed he was not expecting anyone to bother him at this time of night. "Wh-what are you doing here?" he inquired, losing his front for a brief moment.

"I - I was here to submit a paper, sir."

"How much did you hear?" The boss's eyes were wide, searching, accusing.

Taken aback, the man stuttered. "I -- I...."

"Get out."

"What?"

"I said GET OUT!" Outraged, the boss picked up the stapler on his desk. He narrowly missed the man, who dodged at the last second. Heart pumping, mind racing, the man extended his hand holding his papers.

"I just want to -"

"Out!"

Terrified, the man fled. Alone in his office once more, the boss immediately opened his file cabinet and began searching for the man's name. Luckily for the boss, he knew the man. He was a well-liked secretary, who kept to himself and usually produced good papers. He rarely missed deadlines, though it seemed his punctuality might be his downfall in this case.

The boss scribbled down the man's name on a notepad and locked the notepad in the drawer in his desk. As he looked up, he noticed his Transceiver was still live with the researcher. The little holographic image of the man looked startled.

"Don't be afraid," the boss crooned, realizing he needed to make ends right. "There's nothing to worry about. I've formulated this plan to be failsafe. Nothing can go wrong..."


	2. Chapter 1 - Lianna

Alarm buzzing monotonously, Lianna slowly became conscious once more. She groaned, rolled over, and slapped at the machine until it went silent. She pulled the covers over her head as her morning routine began. In fifteen minutes, her aunt would yell at her to get up, using all kinds of creative threats to joust her niece from her bed. Finally, she'd decide to get up, and slowly she'd make her way to the shower so that she could look "presentable" by today's standards.

After a long, hot shower, she'd spend a while drying her hair until it was stick straight. Her clothes would be a typical selection: blue jeans, dark rinse, a shapeless t-shirt, converse. She wasn't trying to impress anyone; she was going to school, after all. During breakfast, her aunt would probably mention the lengthy shower, and Lianna would choose to ignore her as always. She got lectures on a regular basis from her teachers; she didn't need more from her aunt, and certainly not on topics where she wasn't learning anything new. As the morning drew to a close, Lianna would hurry off to catch the last ZIP line train to school before she was late (yet again).

This was every morning for Lianna. Though she was stuck in a rut, she almost _enjoyed_ the feeling. She felt... comfortable, safe, secure. But, as all souls, Lianna longed for adventure, something to come along and change up her life.

Classes went well for Lianna, usually. She felt proud of her skills, though she'd never admit it. She was at the end of her final year of formal schooling. Within the next few months, she planned to apply to various professional schools, which would provide her with two years of hands on training before she was placed into a proper job. Occasionally, she saw a few of these trainees around her own school; many of them were studying to become teachers. There were others who were also studying various maths and doing research projects, though many of these went to private schools farther out in the country.

Her most exciting class of the day was about pre-professional school. This class, required for all final year students, helped to prepare her for applications to professional schools. Her teacher himself lectured on and on for hours and had a bad habit of getting off topic rather easily. Sometimes, the trainee even looked like he was about to doze off. However, whenever the teacher managed to remain on topic, he covered many relevant topics. Unlike many of Lianna's classes, he talked about the real world.

Today, apparently, was not going to be one of the more exciting days. Somehow, the teacher had managed to get onto the topic of ZIP lines, and how the monopolization of public transportation had left the States worse off financially. Lianna found herself slumped against her notes, too bored to care whether or not the ink on the page would tattoo her face later.

"It's about _quality_ of the system!" he raved. The marker flew across the board, and the lines appeared rather squiggly and echoed the man's excitement (or eccentricity, Lianna reasoned) about the topic. He didn't seem to notice that his glasses were slightly off kilter as he turned back to the class. "If they _wanted_ to give us proper transportation, they would have opened it back up to other companies!"

At that moment, the fire alarm sounded.

Though this wasn't exactly out of the ordinary, it certainly didn't happen every day. The repetitive blare pulled Lianna and the rest of their class from their afternoon nap. The teacher and the trainee were busy sorting the class, counting heads and ushering them outside. Lianna started to stand up, leaving her papers at her desk, and was just about to extend to her full height when she felt a heavy smack to the back of her head. The fire alarm faded away as she collapsed to the ground and her world went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ch. 1 notes - 
> 
> I apologize for the wait; it's been busy, getting ready for midterms. However, once midterms are out of the way, I've got spring break, so hopefully I can crank out a chapter or two in a couple of weeks. As always, comments are welcomed! Hope you enjoy as you start to get to know one of the main characters!

**Author's Note:**

> I apologize for any bizarre formatting that may occur; seeing as this is my first piece on AO3, hopefully it won't turn out too weird as I figure out how this site works. Updates should come either weekly or biweekly, as I figure out my schedule. I'm currently hoping to put out a new chapter every week, unless something comes up. I also promise that the upcoming chapters won't be nearly as short as this one. I just wanted to crank out a bit of a teaser before I went to bed tonight in order to get myself in the writing mood. I hope you enjoy~
> 
> Comments (preferably positive, or constructive criticism) are always welcomed!


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